Chapter 6 - The Wisconsin Weekend Rush
While the Napa intervention was being dismantled by the Napa County Sheriff’s Department, four hundred miles away in rural Wisconsin, the afternoon sun was beginning to slant through the towering pines surrounding Meredith’s private lake house.
A sleek black SUV pulled off the gravel road and rolled smoothly down the private driveway, coming to a stop directly beside the front porch.
The engine cut off. The driver’s side door opened, and a man in his late thirties stepped out, adjusting his sunglasses and stretching his arms. A moment later, the passenger door opened, and a glamorous woman in her mid-thirties stepped out, taking a deep breath of the pine-scented air.
"Oh, Gary, look at this! It’s even better than the pictures online!" the woman exclaimed, clapping her hands together. "Sabine was totally right—this place is an absolute dream."
Gary walked around the back of the SUV, popping the trunk and pulling out two heavy designer suitcases. "Well, for four thousand five hundred dollars a week, it better be. Let’s get inside before the sun gets too low."
They walked up the wooden steps, crossed the porch, and stopped at the front door. Gary pulled out his phone, scrolling down through a text message thread from Sabine Kellan that contained the digital keypad entry code.
He punched in the six-digit sequence.
*Click.*
The deadbolt retracted with a smooth, mechanical hum. Gary pushed the door open, stepping proudly into the sunlit foyer of the lake house.
"Home for the week," he announced, dropping his luggage near the coat rack.
Except, as they stepped further into the living room, they froze.
The house wasn't empty.
Sitting on the cream-colored linen sofa in the center of the living room was a man wearing a crisp gray suit, holding an open leather-bound folio. He didn't look up immediately. He just turned a page, the rustle of paper sounding loud in the quiet room.
Gary’s jaw tightened. He dropped his bags. "Hey! Who the hell are you? How did you get in here?"
The man in the gray suit slowly raised his head. He had sharp gray eyes, a calm, professional demeanor, and a corporate ID badge clipped to his lapel identifying him as an independent forensic auditor appointed by the Circuit Court of Cook County.
"Good afternoon," the auditor said smoothly, his voice entirely devoid of panic. "Are you Gary and Elena Vance?"
Elena gasped, stepping back behind her husband. "How do you know our names?"
The auditor closed his folio with a soft thud and stood up. "Because you are currently trespassing on commercial property under active receivership and asset seizure by order of the court."
Gary’s face flushed a deep, mottled red. "Trespassing? Are you out of your mind? We rented this house legally! We paid Sabine Kellan four thousand five hundred dollars in advance! We have the receipts right here on our phones!"
The auditor walked slowly toward them, his expression completely impassigned. He reached into his briefcase and pulled out a stack of stamped legal notices, handing them directly to Gary.
"Mr. and Mrs. Vance, I am fully aware of what Sabine Kellan told you," the auditor said calmly. "However, Ms. Kellan does not own this property. She never owned this property. Furthermore, the individual who *does* own this property—Attorney Meredith Kellan—has filed criminal charges against Sabine Kellan for operating an illegal commercial rental scam using fraudulent conveyance of title."
Gary stared at the papers in his hands, the words swimming before his eyes. "A scam... she scammed us? Again?"
"I suggest you load your luggage back into your vehicle immediately," the auditor advised, checking his wristwatch. "The sheriff’s deputies from the local precinct are currently parked at the end of the driveway to assist with your orderly departure. Have a pleasant afternoon."
May you like
Elena burst into tears, turning around and storming back out the front door, leaving her husband standing in the middle of the living room holding a stack of court-ordered eviction notices.
***
